Family Secrets
by N'kala
Summary: Someone arrives on the station that brings up old memories for Dr. Bashir
1. Author's Notes

Title: Family Secrets  
  
Author: N'kala99  
  
Summary: An uninvited guest threatens to reveal all of Julian's carefully kept secrets.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own them.  
  
Author's Note: I was reviewing some of my older stories and their reviews when I   
  
decided to venture back into Star Trek and give it another shot. Beware my liberties; I   
  
claim poetic license in all my work.   
  
Additional Comments: When most authors write about abuse, it is typically in the form   
  
of either physical or sexual. Psychological, or emotional, abuse, is woefully overlooked.   
  
The reason for that is mainly because most people do not see it as a valid form of abuse.   
  
Unfortunately, it is all to real and every bit as damaging as the other forms.   
  
This story implies that Bashir is an abused child. I've written similar stories inside other   
  
fandoms in the past, and the reviews I have received tell me that I am far outside   
  
believability. I want to warn any potential readers that I have had personal experience in   
  
this matter, and that much of what I write really has happened, though some situations   
  
have been rearranged to fit the characters. Choose to believe this or not; it's your choice.   
  
But please do not review and tell me that this is beyond the realm of reality.   
  
Unfortunately, the events portrayed were all too real. 


	2. Chapter One

Family Secrets  
  
By: N'kala99  
  
Chapter One  
  
Julian Bashir glanced up at the screen before him as it began to display the results of the   
  
search he had been running. He had been looking to synthesize a new vaccine for the   
  
recently developed Bolarian flu that had been running rampant throughout the quadrant.   
  
The station had been introduced to the epidemic when a Tellarite freighter had docked for   
  
repairs just a couple weeks before. Several inhabitants of the station were still down with   
  
the nasty virus, and all Julian had been able to do so far was administer a temporary cure.   
  
He'd been in contact with other doctors in the quadrant, who were also experiencing the   
  
outbreaks, but so far none of them had had any luck. This time, though, Julian believed   
  
he was onto something.  
  
As the information rolled across the screen, the young doctor felt his pulse quicken. The   
  
results looked promising. All he needed to do now was test the vaccine against the strain   
  
he had cultured, and then he would know for sure.  
  
"I've never known strands of DNA to be that interesting."  
  
Julian jumped, startled, at the sudden voice. Turning, he scowled playfully at Jadzia Dax.   
  
"You know, you could give someone a heart attack doing that."  
  
Dax just smiled. "Then you're in the right place to have one. What are you looking at?"  
  
Julian transferred a sample of his newly developed serum into a hypospray, then carried   
  
the hypo over to another workstation where his flu sample awaited him. "If I'm lucky,   
  
the answer to our latest problem."  
  
"The Bolarian flu?" Dax correctly guessed. "After only two weeks?"  
  
Julian didn't reply as he injected the flu strain with the compound, then watched the   
  
screen anxiously for results. Dax moved closer and peered over his shoulder.  
  
At first, it didn't look as though anything had changed. Just as Julian was about to give   
  
up hope, the readout began to show the gradual dissipation of the flu virus. He ran a   
  
second test to be sure, but the results were identical.  
  
Dax squeezed his shoulder. "Congratulations, Julian!"  
  
Julian grinned broadly and went about filling a number of hyposprays with the vaccine,   
  
then loaded them into his medical kit. "As soon as I distribute the vaccine to the people   
  
on the station, I'm going to alert all of the doctors in the sector so they can do the same. I   
  
think the news will come as a bit of relief to the people suffering from this epidemic."  
  
"I think it's more than that," Dax protested. "I can't believe you've found a vaccine in the   
  
short amount of time you had. This is something that will definitely get you attention   
  
from Starfleet Medical."  
  
Julian shrugged. "I couldn't take all the credit. After all, there were several of us   
  
involved in finding the cure. If it hadn't been me, it would have been someone else."  
  
"Still, Julian, you ought to be proud," Dax told him. She followed him from the   
  
Infirmary, easily keeping his excited pace. "Actually, I have some news for you. I came   
  
down to the Infirmary to tell you that the Persephone will be docking with us tomorrow   
  
for a week."  
  
Julian tossed Dax a confused look as they boarded the turbolift. "Why are you telling me   
  
this? I don't know anyone on the Persephone."  
  
Dax's brow furrowed in confusion. "You mean . . . no one told you?"  
  
"Told me what?" Julian asked.  
  
Dax's eyebrows rose. "The Persephone is on her way to the Gamma   
  
Quadrant for a treaty negotiation with Tanvora IV."  
  
Julian frowned, deep in thought. After a contemplative moment, his shocked hazel eyes   
  
turned onto the lieutenant. "My father? My father's coming here?"  
  
Dax nodded, still confused. "I thought he would have said something to you."  
  
A cool mask slid into place over Julian's features. "My father and I rarely speak   
  
anymore."  
  
"I'm sorry if I upset you, Julian," Dax stated. "I just thought . . . well, it doesn't matter.   
  
Do you mind if I accompany you on your house calls?"  
  
Julian forced a smile onto his face. "Of course not. I would be delighted."  
  
  
  
=/\=  
  
Julian severed the communications link with the last doctor and wearily rubbed his face.   
  
It was late in the evening, and he had just finished transmitting the vaccine information to   
  
every doctor within ten parsecs of the station. Now that he was done with that chore, he   
  
was left with Dax's revealing news from that afternoon.  
  
His father. Gods above, he hadn't seen his father since he had left to go to medical   
  
school, and for good reason. Involuntarily, a shudder rippled through his body. Why did   
  
his father have to come here, of all places?  
  
And more importantly, how would he be able to hide the truth from all of his friends?  
  
Memories from his childhood plagued Julian. As if they were scenes from a holovid,   
  
images flashed before his eyes. One right after the other, the next more frightening than   
  
the last. One such memory he had long since buried forced its way into the forefront of   
  
his mind.  
  
//Furious brown eyes flashed, pinning ten-year-old Julian in place. The boy trembled   
  
under the glare, knowing what would come next. What always came next.  
  
"Do you have any idea what you've done?" Richard Bashir raged, towering over the small   
  
boy. "Do you have any clue in that brainless head of yours what you just did?"  
  
"N-No, sir," Julian stammered, flinching.  
  
"Thanks to you, the treaty I've been working so hard to settle nearly blew up in our   
  
faces!" Bashir thundered, grabbing Julian roughly by the arm and shaking him. "If it   
  
hadn't been for my quick thinking, we would have a full-scale war on our hands!"  
  
"I-I'm s-s-sorry," Julian pleaded.  
  
"Sorry? That's all you have to say for yourself?" Bashir bellowed incredulously. "When   
  
I'm through with you, you'll be a lot more than 'sorry'!"  
  
"No! Dad, please, . . ."//  
  
A hand fell on Julian's shoulder, causing the young man to be violently jerked from his   
  
memories. Jumping to his feet, he skittered away from the sudden assault and turned to   
  
face the intruder.  
  
Garak was watching Julian with undisguised surprise, his eyebrows raised high on his   
  
forehead. Sharp blue eyes studied the doctor carefully before venturing conversation. "I   
  
apologize, Doctor. I didn't mean to startle you. Are you all right?"  
  
Julian forced his breathing under control and nodded. "I'm fine, Garak. Is there   
  
something you need?"  
  
"Actually, Doctor, I saw your light on and thought I'd come over and see what could   
  
possibly be keeping you so late," Garak replied. "It is, after all, nearly midnight."  
  
Julian checked his chronometer and found that Garak was correct. "I didn't even realize   
  
the time. No wonder that last doctor I spoke with seemed upset at my call." He grinned   
  
faintly. "I suppose next time I should pay closer attention to the time."  
  
"Then I take it your search for the cure you've been so intent about has been successful?"   
  
Garak asked.  
  
"So far, so good," Julian told him, straightening up several miscellaneous items. "All the   
  
patients have been responding well to treatment, but I'll know more in the morning."  
  
"Then might I suggest you take the rest of the night off?" Garak said. "I dare say you've   
  
earned it."  
  
"You've read my mind," Julian replied. "Just let me finish cleaning, then   
  
I'll walk with you."  
  
It only took the doctor a few more minutes, and soon the two friends were on their way   
  
back to their quarters. After a moment of companionable silence, Garak cleared his   
  
throat.  
  
"If you don't mind my asking, Doctor, what were you thinking about back in the   
  
Infirmary?" he probed lightly.  
  
Julian's normally tanned skin paled ever so slightly, but his expression showed only   
  
polite confusion. "What do you mean?" he responded, buying time.  
  
Garak raised an eyebrow at him. "Come now, Doctor. Surely you don't think I am   
  
naïve. You practically jumped out of your skin when I touched your shoulder, and that   
  
was after I had called your name two times."  
  
Julian sighed. "Sorry, Garak. I guess I've been under a bit of stress lately. I wasn't   
  
really thinking of anything in particular."  
  
Garak nodded, though whether he accepted the doctor's explanation, Julian couldn't tell.   
  
Silently, he hoped Garak wouldn't pry any further.  
  
"You know, there is talk going around that your father is coming tomorrow aboard the   
  
Persephone. Am I right in assuming that our weekly lunch date will be postponed until   
  
next week?"  
  
Julian stared at Garak. "How did you come by that piece of information?"  
  
Garak shrugged. "One tends to hear all sorts of things when one is-."  
  
"A spy?" Julian cut in, half-teasing.  
  
"A tailor," Garak corrected smoothly. He gave Julian an amused look. "Really, Doctor.   
  
I'd have thought you would have given up on that particular notion by now."  
  
"Can't blame a man for trying," Julian replied easily. He came to a halt in the corridor.   
  
"Well, here I am. I guess I'll see you around. I'm sure we can fit in lunch sometime this   
  
week. Good night, Garak."  
  
"Good night, Doctor." Garak watched Julian retreat into his quarters, a thoughtful look   
  
on his face. The doctor, he knew, had deftly avoided his questions with a lot more skill   
  
than the Cardassian had ever given him credit for. That alone intrigued Garak to keep a   
  
closer eye on Julian for the following week to see just what it was that the young man   
  
was hiding. 


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two  
  
//"Dad! Dad!" Sixteen-year-old Julian ran into his father's office, waving a padd in the   
  
air. "Guess what? You'll never believe it?"  
  
Richard Bashir barely glanced up from his computer screen. "What do you want,   
  
Julian?"  
  
The disinterested tone pulled Julian up short, but he plowed forward anyway. "I just got   
  
a communiqué from Starfleet Medical! They're going to accept me into their program as   
  
soon as I finish high school! Isn't that great?"  
  
Bashir still did not look up. "That's nice, Julian."  
  
Julian's expression became wounded. Didn't his father know how hard he had worked to   
  
get accepted into medical school? After working hard to graduate top in his class, track   
  
down sponsors, and find glowing recommendations, he was finally going to go to   
  
medical school, and Bashir couldn't seem to care less.  
  
"Don't you care?" he asked sullenly.  
  
As soon as the words left his lips, he knew they had been the wrong ones. A cold hand   
  
gripped at his heart as hard eyes finally turned to him, burning with anger.  
  
"Care?" Bashir echoed. "How dare you ask me that! After all the work I did to see to it   
  
that you went to the best schools, received the best education money could buy, and give   
  
you a damn good home, you have the gall to ask me if I care? Do you care how hard I   
  
work to put food on the table, clothes on your back? Pay for your tuition? Your tennis   
  
lessons? Until you start earning money of your own, don't you dare question me about   
  
that! Now get out of my sight!"  
  
Julian stood, stunned, for a brief moment. The glory of being accepted into Starfleet   
  
Medical had all but rescinded into dying embers. Guilt and pain fought for dominance in   
  
his heart as he turned and slunk out of his father's office.//  
  
Julian Bashir opened his eyes and sat up, the dream still fresh in his memory. Gods, how   
  
that rejection had hurt. Nothing he had ever done had ever measured up in Richard   
  
Bashir's eyes. Everything Julian had accomplished meant absolutely nothing, because he   
  
should have done better. It didn't matter that officers were fighting amongst each other   
  
to get Julian under their command; all that Richard Bashir had cared about was that he   
  
had only graduated second in his class, and not first.  
  
Realizing that sleep would be elusive that night, Julian threw aside his covers and stood.   
  
A quick check of his chronometer showed that it was nearly six in the morning. A good   
  
time for some exercise and breakfast before reporting to the Infirmary for the day's shift.   
  
If he were really lucky, he would be able to avoid seeing his father at all today.  
  
=/\=  
  
Commander Benjamin Sisko tugged at the hem of his dress uniform as he waited for the   
  
Persephone to dock. Glancing around, he saw his first officer and security chief shifting   
  
restlessly. He had only asked for Kira and Odo to join him in greeting the ambassador as   
  
a formality, since DS9 was only a brief stopover for the ship. He was mildly surprised to   
  
find that Julian was nowhere to be seen.  
  
Sisko tapped his communicator. "Sisko to Bashir. Doctor, will you be joining us this   
  
afternoon?"  
  
Julian's soft British lilt sounded tense, even over the communicator. "Er . . . sorry, sir.   
  
Something came up in the Infirmary that required my immediate attention. I'm afraid I   
  
won't be able to make it there."  
  
Sisko raised his eyebrows and shared curious looks with Odo and Kira. "I see. I'll give   
  
Ambassador Bashir your regrets. Sisko out."  
  
"That's odd," Kira commented. "I wonder what could be keeping Julian from meeting his   
  
father."  
  
"Maybe we can ask him later," Sisko stated as the airlock doors began to roll open.   
  
Slipping on his game face, he stepped forward and grinned welcomingly as three officers   
  
stepped onto the station. "Good afternoon, and welcome to Deep Space Nine. I am   
  
Commander Benjamin Sisko. This is my first officer, Major Kira, and my chief of   
  
security, Constable Odo." Sisko gestured to his officers as they were introduced.  
  
A tall, lithe woman with short brown hair, green eyes, and a ready smile stepped forward   
  
to shake Sisko's hand. "Thank you, Commander. I am Captain Melissa Talbot. Allow   
  
me to introduce my first officer, Commander Nicholas Hawk."   
  
Talbot stepped back, allowing Hawk to shake Sisko's hand. Hawk was a tall, muscular   
  
man. From reading his personnel file the day before, Sisko knew that the man was also a   
  
Betazoid.  
  
The third person in their party was a stocky man with brown hair slowly turning gray. He   
  
had dull brown eyes and pale skin. The ever-present sparkle and enthusiasm for life that   
  
Julian seemed to possess was absent from this man's face. If not for the situation at hand,   
  
Sisko would never have guessed that this dour man was his ebullient doctor's father.  
  
"You must be Ambassador Bashir," the commander stated, holding out his hand. "It's an   
  
honor to meet you. Julian has done an excellent job for us here on the station. You must   
  
be very proud."  
  
Bashir accepted the hand without so much a grin. "Yes, well, Julian does tend to excel in   
  
any situation, despite his rather unprofessional attitude. It's the breeding, you know."  
  
Sisko blinked at the ambassador's words. Kira was trying hard to disguise her shock, and   
  
Odo was staring openly at Bashir. Sisko attempted to save face. "Yes, well, Julian sends   
  
his apologies. Apparently, an emergency came up in the Infirmary that required his   
  
attention. He'll stop by to see you later."  
  
Bashir snorted and clasped his hands behind his back. "I'm sure. Well, how about this   
  
tour I was promised?"  
  
Sisko glanced at Kira, then forced a smile on his face. "Right this way, Ambassador."  
  
As Sisko led the newcomers down the corridor, Kira fell into step beside Odo. "That's   
  
Julian's father?" she whispered in disbelief.  
  
Odo grunted. "Hard to believe, isn't it? I don't know why, but there's something about   
  
him that sets me on edge."  
  
"There's something about him that makes me want to rearrange his face," Kira replied.   
  
"Thank the Prophets he's only here for a week."  
  
=/\=  
  
Jadzia Dax entered the Infirmary and glanced around for Julian. Spying him in front of   
  
his computer screen, she walked up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. Julian   
  
jumped.  
  
"Sorry," Dax said with a light smile. "What's the matter with you? You've been so   
  
jumpy lately."  
  
Julian sighed. "Nothing, Jadzia, sorry. I was just finishing up my report to Starfleet   
  
Medical about the flu vaccine. I've heard from other doctors, and they tell me that their   
  
patients are responding well to treatment. Hopefully, Starfleet can implement this   
  
vaccine and stop the epidemic before it gets out of hand."  
  
"Couldn't this have waited until later?" Dax asked. "I saw Benjamin a few minutes ago,   
  
giving the tour to you father. I was a little surprised to see you weren't with them."  
  
Julian's face became devoid of expression. "Well, this was rather important. I just had a   
  
few more patients come in with the Bolarian flu, and it's beginning to look as though I   
  
may need to administer the vaccine to everyone in the station."  
  
Dax winced. With over a thousand inhabitants on the station, not to mention the crews of   
  
the ships currently docked, it would take Julian at least a week to vaccinate them all. "Is   
  
there any way I can help? Maybe we can alter the vaccine into a gaseous state and   
  
release it through the air vents."  
  
Julian shook his head. "In gaseous form, the vaccine is rendered neutral. I have to   
  
administer it intramuscularly." He sighed again. "I guess I had better begin preparing   
  
hyposprays."  
  
"Take a break first, Julian, and go see your father," Dax urged. "The vaccine can wait a   
  
couple of hours."  
  
Julian opened his mouth to reply, but Sisko's voice caused him to leap to his feet.  
  
" . . . and this is our Infirmary."  
  
Julian's soft, hazel eyes locked on the figure of a man he hadn't seen in over five years.   
  
Everyone else in the room faded into the background as memories long buried rushed to   
  
the fore.  
  
Bashir's eyes lazily traced the room before falling on his son. Father and son stared at   
  
one another for several long moments, neither man saying a word.  
  
"It's adequate," Bashir finally said.  
  
Sisko cleared his throat. "You know, this place was a shambles when I arrived. Julian   
  
built this Infirmary up from the ground all on his own, and it's now a first-rate medical   
  
facility."  
  
"I had help," Julian mumbled, eyes still glued on his father.  
  
"Yes, I'm sure," Bashir replied.  
  
Dax's eyebrows were drawn together in confusion, a frown beginning to form on her   
  
face. Sisko gestured to her. "This is our science officer, Lieutenant Jadzia Dax."  
  
Dax held out her hand. "A pleasure, sir. You know, what you did on Kalani VII was   
  
nothing short of amazing."  
  
Bashir raised his eyebrows in surprise, and his demeanor became warmer. "Well, thank   
  
you, but you couldn't be any older than Julian, and he was only seven at the time."  
  
Dax nodded. "I know. But Curzon Dax followed those negotiations very closely, and he   
  
was very impressed."  
  
"You don't say," Bashir replied. "Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant."  
  
"Same here, sir," Dax told him. "And I have to tell you it's been an honor working with   
  
your son. He's a very gifted doctor."  
  
The warmth that had just begun to pervade the room left just as quickly. "Yes, I know.   
  
Julian wasn't terribly good at many things, but being a doctor was the exception."  
  
He turned to Sisko. "Well, Commander, I don't know about you, but I'm getting hungry.   
  
Shall we return to that interesting bar across the Promenade?"  
  
Without waiting for an answer, Bashir strode out of the room unaware of his son's face   
  
flaming in humiliation. Sisko and the rest of his entourage gave Julian sympathetic looks   
  
before following the ambassador back onto the Promenade.  
  
Dax realized that her mouth was hanging open and shut it with an audible snap. "So . . .   
  
that's your father."  
  
Julian turned back to his computer. "That's him."  
  
The Trill regarded her friend carefully. "Well, I'm sure he's a very gifted ambassador."  
  
Julian shrugged, choosing not to comment.  
  
"I'm sure he didn't mean what he said," Dax tried again. "Maybe, once he's settled-."  
  
"Jadzia, just stop," Julian said wearily. "You don't know him. Once he's made up his   
  
mind about something, nothing will change it. Not even if the Prophets sucked him up   
  
and told him. Or the Dominion."  
  
"Or even his own son?" Dax added softly.  
  
Julian snorted derisively, much to Dax's surprise. "Just leave it alone, Dax. It isn't worth   
  
it to get involved."  
  
As he left to collect more hyposprays from storage, Dax let her mind turn inward. There   
  
was something about the whole situation that rang bells inside her head. She couldn't put   
  
her finger on it, but whatever Julian was dealing with in regards to his father, there was a   
  
deeper story than he was letting on. If Julian wasn't willing to shed any light on the   
  
subject, then Dax would have to do a little investigating of her own. 


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three  
  
Sisko, Kira, and Odo watched the three officers retreat back to the Persephone with   
  
forced politeness. The instant they turned the corner, Sisko and Kira sagged and traded   
  
exasperated looks.  
  
"I guess I can see where Doctor Bashir gets his one-track mind," Sisko commented as   
  
they began to trek back to the turbolift.   
  
"Yeah, but not his attitude," Kira agreed. "And I thought Julian was annoying. At least   
  
he tried to be polite."  
  
Sisko glanced at Odo. "You've been awfully quiet this afternoon, Constable. Anything   
  
you'd like to share?"  
  
"Not at this time," Odo replied. "I do have an observation to make, though. I thought it   
  
was peculiar how Doctor Bashir acted when the ambassador was in the same room."  
  
"I noticed that, too," Kira said. "I don't know too many Terrans, but I've seen you with   
  
Jake, Commander. I've also seen the Chief with his daughter. I can't believe that   
  
Ambassador Bashir was behaving in an acceptable manner with Julian."  
  
"I know what you're getting at, Major," Sisko commented. "All parents, regardless of   
  
their heritage- Terran, Bajoran, Klingon- all of them raise their children in the only   
  
manner they know how. Different parenting styles suit different parents and children.   
  
We cannot judge Ambassador Bashir's parenting skills without knowing the whole   
  
situation. Besides; we may be concerned for nothing. Julian Bashir has come this far and   
  
done quite well for himself. The ambassador must have done something right."  
  
Kira and Odo reflected on Sisko's words as they boarded the turbolift. Silently, Sisko   
  
recounted his impromptu speech and wondered why Bashir's actions were still bothering   
  
him.  
  
=/\=  
  
//The holovid signaled insistently, demanding to be answered. Nine-year-old Julian raced   
  
through the house at top speed, hoping to answer the call before it woke his father. It was   
  
barely 0800 hours, but it was also Bashir's day off. If he was awakened . . .  
  
"Hello?" Julian asked, out of breath.  
  
"Hi, Jules," Julian's cousin, David, greeted. "I was calling to ask you if you wanted to   
  
come over and hang out. Mom said she'd pick you up."  
  
A woman with long, curly brown hair and hazel eyes sat down beside David and grinned.   
  
"What do you say, Jules?" she asked. "I'll even throw breakfast into the deal."  
  
Julian grinned widely. "Sure, Aunt Mary."  
  
A deep voice behind Julian caused the boy to stiffen in his seat. "Sorry, Mary. Julian has   
  
things to do with me today."  
  
Mary's face fell. "Oh, okay, Richard. Some other time, okay, Jules?"  
  
Before Julian could answer, Bashir reached out and severed the communication. He   
  
towered over his son, his eyes still hazy from sleep.  
  
Julian tried to salvage what was left of the situation. "Uh . . . s-sorry, Dad . . . I-I tried to   
  
answer it as f-f-fast as I could . . ."  
  
Bashir's hand shot out and closed around Julian's throat. Lifting the boy out of his seat,   
  
he slammed Julian against the wall. He moved his face closer until it was inches from   
  
Julian's.  
  
"You called my sister on a Saturday morning to go to her house?" he hissed angrily.   
  
"You woke her up on her one day off during the week?"  
  
"N-No, sir," Julian stammered, terrified. "S-She called here-."  
  
"Don't lie to me!" Bashir roared. "You're grounded to your room for the next month.   
  
Maybe then you'll learn some courtesy for other people!"  
  
With a final squeeze, Bashir tossed Julian to the floor and stalked off. Julian clutched at   
  
his throat, gasping for breath. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he shuddered.//  
  
Julian jerked himself out of the stupor he had fallen into at his desk and rubbed his face.   
  
To his surprise, his hands came away wet. Sighing heavily, Julian scrubbed at his eyes   
  
and willed himself to calm the trembles that had started.  
  
Why did his father have to stop here, at the station? DS9 was one of the last places that   
  
Julian felt safe. Now, however, with his father there with him, all he could think about   
  
was his childhood.  
  
The Infirmary doors slid open, causing Julian to rise and grab a tricorder out of habit. He   
  
approached the front entrance to see who had entered when the sight of his father stopped   
  
him cold.  
  
Bashir was studying Julian's form with a careful eye. He was showing much more   
  
interest in his son than he had earlier that day.  
  
"You've grown," Bashir stated blandly.  
  
Julian was alert, ready for whatever Bashir had to say to him. His own response was just   
  
as cool. "That tends to happen after five years."  
  
Bashir's eyes narrowed, sending a chill down Julian's spine. "There's no need for that   
  
tone, Julian. I am still your father."  
  
"A father I haven't needed since I was a small boy," Julian pointed out, allowing some of   
  
the hurt he was feeling to show through.  
  
Bashir let out a humorless chuckle and shook his head. "I knew you were going to be   
  
like this. After all this time, and you still behave like a child. Isn't it time you grew up?"  
  
Julian's eyes flashed in anger. "Me grow up? I'm not the one who turned his back on his   
  
only child!"  
  
"There you go again," Bashir said. "Making it out to be all my fault. The martyr act is   
  
getting a little old, Julian."  
  
"I agree," Julian said icily. "So why don't you stop using it?"  
  
Bashir stepped forward, causing Julian to involuntarily take a step back. "Listen to me,   
  
you ungrateful little bastard. After everything I have done for you, you still persist in   
  
treating me like a pariah. Don't forget; you are not too old for me to teach you your   
  
manners."  
  
Julian raised a hand to his communicator. "You touch me, and I'll call security."  
  
Bashir moved closer. "You won't do it. No matter how much you pretend, you're still the   
  
same pussyfooted little coward you were when you were a boy. Go ahead. Call."  
  
Julian didn't move.  
  
Bashir darted forward with a speed that surprised the young doctor. He grabbed Julian   
  
roughly by the arm and shook him. "Call them. I dare you."  
  
"Excuse me. Are we interrupting something?"  
  
Bashir snorted in Julian's face and gave him a light shove back against a console. Julian   
  
caught himself on it and glared at his father, mustering all of his anger into it.   
  
Miles O'Brien moved into the room to Julian's side, his steadying arm helping the doctor   
  
to straighten. Garak merely folded his hands in front of him and watched the ambassador   
  
with interest.  
  
Bashir met Julian's eyes, unaffected by what he found there. "I'll be around, Julian.   
  
Hopefully your manners will have improved by then."  
  
With a superior look to O'Brien and Garak, Bashir exited the Infirmary.  
  
O'Brien turned to Julian with a concerned look on his face. "Are you all right, Julian?   
  
Who was that?"  
  
"I'm fine," Julian replied stiffly.   
  
"Am I correct in assuming that the man who just left was none other than Ambassador   
  
Bashir?" Garak asked.  
  
"Your father?" O'Brien exclaimed in disbelief, not waiting for Julian to respond. "Why   
  
would your father do that?"  
  
Julian gave Garak an annoyed look. "What are you two doing here, anyway? Isn't it   
  
almost time for our duty shifts to end?"  
  
"That's why I'm here," O'Brien replied. "I wanted to see if we were still on for darts this   
  
evening. 1800 hours, right?"  
  
"Right," Julian confirmed. "That explains Miles, but you, Garak? You hardly ever stop   
  
by the Infirmary."  
  
"I saw a strange man in a Starfleet uniform come in here and wanted to see if it was   
  
indeed your father," Garak told him. "I suppose introductions will have to wait until   
  
another day."  
  
Julian smiled bitterly. "If you want to meet him, then by all means. I just wouldn't   
  
recommend mentioning that you're my friend. He's liable to toss you out the nearest   
  
airlock if you do. Father never really approved of any of my friends."  
  
"Looks like that wasn't all he didn't approve of," O'Brien muttered. At Julian's pained   
  
look, he instantly regretted the words. "Oh, Julian, I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by   
  
it."  
  
Julian waved the apology aside. "Forget it. Look, I'm going to go to my quarters for a   
  
bit. I'll see you in about an hour, Miles. Garak; lunch tomorrow?"  
  
Garak bowed in response.  
  
Julian nodded to both of his friends, then escaped their curious looks. Left alone in the   
  
Infirmary, O'Brien glanced at Garak.  
  
"What do you suppose that was all about?" he asked.  
  
Garak only shrugged.  
  
=/\=  
  
"He did what?" Dax cried.  
  
O'Brien hushed her and glanced at Kira's shocked face. "Look, I'm not sure of the whole   
  
story. All I know is what I saw."  
  
"I can't believe it," Kira stated. "I mean, Ambassador Bashir will never win any awards   
  
for courtesy, but he wouldn't do that to his own son."  
  
"Ask Garak if you don't believe me," O'Brien told her. "He was there with me. Saw the   
  
whole thing. And Julian acts like it's the most normal thing in the world. I'm telling you,   
  
I'm a little worried."  
  
"Agreed, but what can we do?" Dax asked. "Neither father nor son are talking about it,   
  
so we have no proof other than that one incident."  
  
O'Brien opened his mouth to reply, but Kira hushed him silent as the object of their   
  
discussion headed their way. Julian offered them a tired smile.  
  
"Well, Chief, are you ready for that rematch you promised me?" he asked.  
  
O'Brien stood. "Tonight's the night, Julian. You are going down."  
  
Julian's grin lost some of its weariness. "Whatever you say, Miles." He turned to Dax   
  
and Kira. "Are you here to watch the chief clean my clock?"  
  
Dax smiled at the doctor. "You're that confident?"  
  
O'Brien chuckled and steered Julian over to the dartboard, where Quark was already   
  
waiting for them with their darts. Amidst the flurry of betting, Julian gestured for   
  
O'Brien to take the first warm-up shots.   
  
As the game wore on, Julian felt the tension in his shoulder gradually seep away. This   
  
was what he needed, he decided. To forget about today and focus completely on the   
  
now. With any luck, he would be able to relax enough to chase away any unpleasant   
  
dreams that night.  
  
The first game went to Julian, so the doctor prepared to throw the first shot of the second   
  
game. As he was lining up his dart, O'Brien cleared his throat.  
  
"So what's the story with you and your dad?" he asked.  
  
Julian released the dart just as the question was asked. Startled by the nature of the   
  
inquiry, his first shot went wild, the dart embedding in the outside border of the board.   
  
Julian turned to glare at the operations chief.  
  
"If you're trying to throw off my game, it won't work," he said pointedly.  
  
His second shot landed dead center of the target. Julian retrieved his darts and stepped   
  
aside so O'Brien could shoot.  
  
"It's a simple question, Julian," O'Brien said as he let one dart fly. "I'm just curious, is   
  
all. You never talked about your family before."  
  
"I talk all the time, as you are so fond of pointing out to me," Julian replied, watching   
  
O'Brien's second dart land on the board.   
  
"Sure, but not about your family," O'Brien said as they traded places. "I mean, you talk   
  
all about medical stuff, and books, and music, art, sports you've played-."  
  
"I get the picture," Julian assured him.  
  
"But I don't ever recall hearing about your father," O'Brien continued, as if Julian had   
  
never spoken. "So, simply put, what's the story?"  
  
Julian paused in his first shot, his arm sagging as he sighed. Barely concealed pain   
  
clouded his eyes. With a sudden surge of anger, he threw the dart at the target, where it   
  
pierced the outer edge of the bulls-eye. With the other dart clenched firmly in one hand,   
  
Julian turned to O'Brien's shocked face.  
  
"I haven't talked about him because there's nothing to talk about," he responded sharply.   
  
"You talk about your family because you did stuff together, and lived as an actual family   
  
should. So, 'simply put,' there is no story."   
  
O'Brien's mouth moved soundlessly for several moments before any words came out.   
  
"Julian . . ."  
  
With barely a glance at the board, Julian hurled the second dart at it and stalked out of   
  
Quark's as quickly as possible. O'Brien's eyes followed him, then turned to the board,   
  
where Julian's second shot had struck the target dead center.  
  
=/\=  
  
Julian stormed into the darkened Infirmary, not quite sure why he was there. He didn't   
  
feel like sitting, so instead, he paced restlessly around the room.  
  
As his temper began to subside, shame crept into his face. Had he really yelled at his   
  
friend over such a simple question? And in front of the entire bar?  
  
But it hadn't been a simple question. That was the problem. How did you explain to   
  
someone with no common frame of reference that your father hadn't even wanted you in   
  
the first place?   
  
"Quite the show you put on at Quark's, Doctor. Care to explain?"  
  
Julian scowled at Garak, who stood in the doorway to the Infirmary. "Not particularly,   
  
Garak. And I'm not very good company right now, so if you don't mind-."  
  
"Not at all, my dear doctor," Garak cut him off as he stepped into the room. "I seem to   
  
recall a time where you kept me company in one of my darker moments. The least I   
  
could do is return the favor. Or lend an ear, perhaps?"  
  
Julian sighed. "It isn't something that I can easily talk about, Garak."  
  
Garak shrugged. "Things of this nature rarely are."  
  
Julian narrowed his eyes at the Cardassian. "And what nature would that be?"  
  
Garak seated himself in the nearest available chair and folded his hands onto his lap.   
  
"You tell me. After all, you are the one who knows more about it than me."  
  
Julian let out a breath and shook his head. "Don't worry about it, Garak. It's nothing. I   
  
think I should go apologize to the chief."  
  
"That's decent of you, Julian, but I would rather have the explanation."  
  
Julian's head snapped around to find O'Brien, Dax, and Kira entering the Infirmary. He   
  
threw his hands up into the air.  
  
"Is there anyone on the station who isn't interested in my personal life?" he asked,   
  
exasperated.  
  
"If it isn't such a big deal, then why don't you just tell us?" Dax reasoned gently.   
  
Julian sighed. "I can't. It isn't something that can be explained. In fact, it isn't something   
  
that makes a whole lot of sense."  
  
"Then just start with what you know, and work from there," Kira stated. "Whatever it is,   
  
you obviously need to get it off your chest."  
  
Julian's eyes studied Kira's face, then flickered over Dax, O'Brien, and Garak. Looking   
  
down at his feet, he ran a hand through his hair. "It's stupid, really. You'll think I'm   
  
crazy."  
  
"I'd say you're running the risk of that either way," O'Brien said, trying to inject some   
  
levity into the conversation.  
  
"Let us be the judge of whether or not this is stupid," Dax added softly.  
  
Julian folded his arms. "You've been warned."  
  
O'Brien and Kira exchanged confused looks, but Garak and Dax's eyes were completely   
  
focused on their young friend.  
  
"Basically, it boils down to the kind of man my father is," Julian explained. "Before I   
  
came along, he was a renowned diplomat who everyone could count on in tough   
  
situations. If there was any war about to break out, you could lay money that my father   
  
would be right there, in the thick of things.  
  
"All that changed when I was born," Julian continued. "He became a parent, and as such,   
  
he had certain responsibilities. A father cannot traipse through space into dangerous   
  
environments with an infant on board his ship. His career had to take a serious hit, and I   
  
don't believe he ever forgave me for that."  
  
"You can't be serious," O'Brien protested. "I mean, that can't possibly be your fault. You   
  
didn't ask to be born."  
  
Julian smiled bitterly. "Try explaining that to somebody whose entire world view is   
  
severely distorted. I'm sure, in the beginning, it didn't start out that way. But as time   
  
went on, the resentment started to build. Every now and again, it spilled out into my life   
  
until the dam burst, and all I ever heard from him was how I had ruined his career, and   
  
his life."  
  
A shocked silence ensued. Julian deftly avoided his friends' eyes, unwilling to see the   
  
pity or disbelief he knew would reside there.  
  
"There's more to it than that," Garak observed after a minute.  
  
Julian glanced up at Garak and was relieved to find nothing more than curiosity and   
  
patience. "Just the parts that make up this story," he answered quietly. "Memories I'd   
  
rather forget. That's all."  
  
"Are you all right?" Dax asked.  
  
Julian took a deep breath. "Actually, yes, I am. I feel better than I have in a long time."   
  
He met every eye on him. "Thank you all."  
  
"If you ever want to talk about some of those memories, you know where to find us,"   
  
Dax offered.  
  
O'Brien straightened. "Well, the night is still young. Julian, you up for another game of   
  
darts? I promise to go easy on you this time."  
  
Julian grinned his first full-fledged grin since the Persephone had docked. "Chief, if you   
  
go any easier on me, I might fall asleep."  
  
Kira laughed. "Come on, the next round of drinks are on me." 


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four  
  
Richard Bashir walked with Talbot into the Ferengi bar and glanced around. The crowd   
  
had grown considerably since lunch, and most of it was concentrated around one section   
  
of the bar. Bashir couldn't see what was so interesting, but was grateful as it left several   
  
tables open.  
  
"Let's go upstairs," he suggested to Talbot. "That way, we'll see Commander Hawk when   
  
he joins us."  
  
Talbot grinned faintly. "Even if we didn't see him, I'm sure he would have no problem   
  
finding us."  
  
"Ah, the advantages of a Betazoid," Bashir replied, leading Talbot up the stairs.  
  
They found a table near the edge of the second floor and immediately placed their drink   
  
orders with an overanxious Ferengi waiter. Talbot glanced down below.  
  
"Say, isn't that your son down there?" she asked.  
  
Bashir followed her gaze to the center of the crowd. Julian was, indeed, below him,   
  
sitting in between the Trill he'd met earlier that day and the Cardassian. Another man   
  
was busy trying to show the Bajoran first officer how to throw a dart, much to the   
  
crowd's amusement.  
  
"I suppose it is," Bashir replied, watching the scene below. His eyes narrowed when he   
  
saw Julian lean over and tell the Cardassian something. "Although I thought I had taught   
  
him better than to associate with such riffraff as that Cardassian down there."  
  
"Oh, the tailor?" Talbot asked. "He seemed nice enough. For a Cardassian."  
  
Bashir sniffed. "I suppose."  
  
The two officers continued their surveillance as Bashir took his place in front of the   
  
dartboard. Bets were called in the air, some reaching their ears. Upon hearing a bet of   
  
twenty strips of latinum for a bulls-eye mark, Talbot shot Bashir a startled look.   
  
"I didn't realize your son was so good at darts," she commented.  
  
Bashir didn't respond, eyes intent on Julian. As if by some unseen force, Julian tensed,   
  
the sparkle falling from his eyes. Slowly, his head turned in Bashir's direction until his   
  
gaze locked with his father's. After a few mere seconds, Julian turned back to the board   
  
to line up his shot.  
  
Bashir's eyes roamed the crowd. No one, evidently, had noticed Julian's brief lack in   
  
concentration.  
  
No one, that is, except for the Cardassian.  
  
Garak's bright blue eyes were focused firmly on Bashir, startling the ambassador. All   
  
pretense seemed to have dropped from his face, leaving behind a cold intensity that sent   
  
shivers down Bashir's spine. Bashir managed to muster together a glare for the tailor   
  
before returning to his drink.  
  
Talbot had been oblivious to the entire exchange, choosing to watch Julian hit the bulls-  
  
eye in the center the first time, and slightly off center the second. She shook her head and   
  
looked up at Bashir.   
  
"Maybe I should have placed a bet," she stated.   
  
"Gambling can only get you into trouble," Bashir replied stiffly. "I thought I had taught   
  
Julian that, but it seems he decided to go his own way."  
  
Talbot's expression was one of discomfort, but she forged on into the conversation   
  
anyway. "I'm sure harmless bets are all right, Ambassador. Besides; Julian's just playing   
  
a game. It's everyone else who are doing the betting."  
  
"Details," Bashir muttered. Looking at Talbot, he stood. "Excuse me."  
  
Talbot sighed as Bashir moved off, and sagged in her seat. A familiar voice behind her   
  
made her jump, startled.  
  
"Is it safe yet?"  
  
Talbot smiled wearily at Hawk as he sat down beside his captain. "You heard?"  
  
Hawk returned her grin and tapped his forehead. "Hard not to. The man is broadcasting   
  
so loudly that my shields are taking more of a beating than unusual. He wasn't this bad   
  
on the way here."  
  
"It must have something to do with his son," Talbot commented. "But I don't understand.   
  
From what I've heard, Dr. Bashir is an accomplished doctor. There must be more to the   
  
story than everyone is letting on."  
  
Hawk frowned. "All I know is what slips past my shields. From what I understand,   
  
Ambassador Bashir's feelings are not very generous. I hope this matter resolves itself   
  
fairly soon, because he's beginning to give me a headache."  
  
Talbot shot Hawk a concerned look. "This is only the first day; it was bound to cause   
  
some stress. Maybe things will be better tomorrow."  
  
"I hope so," Hawk replied.   
  
=/\=  
  
The next three days passed by in a fairly quiet manner for both Bashirs. It was no secret   
  
to Julian's friends that the doctor was outright avoiding associating with his father the   
  
entire time, and that Bashir was doing likewise. The strain of the ambassador's presence   
  
was clearly present on Julian's face, but Julian waved off any concern with a forced smile   
  
and a platitude. Only a few more days left, and things would return to normal.  
  
If Sisko was aware of the tensions running high between the two men, he did an   
  
admirable job of hiding it. He continued to meet with Bashir as much as protocol   
  
dictated, wisely steering any and all conversations away from personal affairs. For   
  
awhile, it seemed as though everyone would come out of the situation unscathed.  
  
Julian sighed as he marked off another date on his memo padd. Just two more days and   
  
his father would finally be off the station and out of his life. It couldn't get there soon   
  
enough.  
  
He knew his friends, though supportive, were still confused by his behavior. Hell,   
  
O'Brien had asked him outright why he didn't simply speak with his father; try to mend   
  
the damage that twenty-eight years of life had caused. Julian had only shrugged, not   
  
wanting to answer the innocent question.  
  
The truth of the matter was that Julian had tried. Many times, throughout his young life,   
  
he had attempted to talk to Bashir, to point out his inconsistent behavior by using simple   
  
logic. The problem with that was that logic just didn't apply. You couldn't use rational   
  
behavior to explain irrational actions. Julian had learned that the hard way.  
  
The only person who had not tried to sympathize with Julian, or tell him that Bashir   
  
would come around, had been Garak. Garak had just listened with attentive ears any time   
  
Julian spoke, but never once did he utter reassurances. Perhaps his own experience with   
  
Tain had taught Garak that what Julian needed most now was to be treated . . . normally.  
  
And Julian needed to feel normal, desperately.  
  
Julian glanced over at his nurse. "Jabarra, I'm leaving now. See you tomorrow, bright   
  
and early."  
  
Jabarra smiled at Julian. "As always, Doctor."  
  
Julian returned the smile and strode out of the Infirmary. The Promenade was fairly   
  
crowded, as it had been the past few days as the crew of the Persephone enjoyed some   
  
time away from their ship. Julian maneuvered his was around an arguing couple and   
  
ducked into Quark's.  
  
O'Brien was sitting at a small table, nursing a drink. Julian walked up to him. "Hey,   
  
Chief, what's the good news?"  
  
O'Brien snorted. "The good news is that my shift is over for the day."  
  
Julian gave the waiter his drink order, then returned his attention back to O'Brien. "That   
  
bad, huh?"  
  
"That's putting it mildly," O'Brien said. "Three consoles went down in Ops. At the same   
  
time! And those damn voles are still crawling around, chewing through all my hard   
  
work. I spent the better half of the day chasing them down through Jeffries tubes."  
  
Julian winced. "Well, there's always tomorrow."  
  
O'Brien sipped his drink. "I'm telling you, Julian. One of these days, I'm going to get   
  
those damn Cardie rats, if it's the last thing I do."  
  
Julian chuckled and accepted his drink as it was brought to him. "Well, then, I guess   
  
you're too tired for a round of darts."  
  
"What the hell," O'Brien stated. "Getting beaten by you would be the perfect end to such   
  
a perfect day."  
  
"Now that's the spirit." Julian grabbed his glass, stood, and turned. At the same instant,   
  
the person behind him had decided to do the same, and the two ran into each other.   
  
Julian's drink spilled all over the tunic of the man in front of him.  
  
"Oh, God, I'm so sorry," Julian began. "My mistake."  
  
"Damn right, your mistake!"  
  
Julian froze at the sound of the voice. He had been looking down for napkins, but his   
  
entire body had become rigid. Slowly, his eyes traveled up the tunic of the man in front   
  
of him, fearful of who it was.  
  
*It can't be him* Julian thought to himself. *It just can't be.*  
  
Richard Bashir's face was a mask of anger as he glowered at his son. Behind him stood   
  
Commander Sisko, looking as though he wanted to intervene but unsure how to do so.   
  
Hawk and Talbot were also present, their bodies tensed as if prepared to step in should   
  
the situation get out of hand.  
  
"I-I'm s-sorry, sir," Julian stammered, unable to stop himself.  
  
"Sorry?" Bashir echoed. "That's the problem with you, Julian. You're always 'sorry'.   
  
I've never met a 'sorrier' individual in my life!"  
  
Julian's face flushed with humiliation, his eyes lowered to his shoes. Sisko felt   
  
compelled to defend his doctor. "Look, it was just an accident-," he began.  
  
"It's always 'just an accident', isn't it, Julian?" Bashir raged, oblivious to the crowd of   
  
onlookers. "God almighty, sometimes I wonder how you could possibly be related to   
  
me!"  
  
"Now that's enough," Sisko cut in, more forcefully this time.  
  
"It's all right, Commander," Julian spoke up, hoping to stop the scene before his father   
  
really got going. "It was my mistake. I'll pay for the drink; Quark can put it on my tab.   
  
If you'll all excuse me, I have some things that need attending to." With that, the young   
  
man all but fled from the bar.  
  
O'Brien, with a glance to Sisko, immediately gave chase. At a meaningful look to Talbot,   
  
Hawk followed. Sisko spun Bashir around and glared at the older man.  
  
"That was completely uncalled for," he exclaimed, barely controlling the anger he was   
  
feeling. "There was absolutely no need for that display! It was just a simple accident!   
  
Could have happened to anyone!"  
  
"That's just it, Commander," Bashir replied in a voice that evoked superiority. "It doesn't   
  
happen to 'anyone'. It always happens to Julian. Why, the boy just can't seem to do   
  
anything right, always tripping over his own feet and embarrassing me. You have a son,   
  
Commander. Surely you understand what I'm talking about."  
  
Sisko was as close to losing his temper as he had been in a very long time. "I do have a   
  
son, and I 'understand' that I would never have treated him the way you just treated   
  
Julian. No one deserves that, least of all your son!"  
  
Bashir only shook his head pitifully, which served to enrage the commander further.   
  
"You just don't get it, do you? I guess you'll see it my way someday."  
  
Sisko took a deep breath, trying to quell the anger inside of him. "If I do, Ambassador,   
  
then may my own son forgive me."  
  
He roughly shoved his way past the ambassador and went in search of his doctor. Talbot   
  
could only stare at Bashir in shock.  
  
Bashir smoothed the front of his tunic and, with his held imperiously high, he strode from   
  
Quark's.  
  
=/\=  
  
Hawk followed the chief of operations through the Promenade and into the Infirmary.   
  
Though he had not chosen to be a counselor, the young man's emotional turmoil was too   
  
strong to ignore. He knew he was no more than a passing stranger to Julian, he hoped to   
  
help him work through whatever it was his father had done.  
  
O'Brien barely glanced at Hawk or the nursing staff as he walked straight up to the door   
  
to Julian's office and knocked. "Julian? It's me. Can I come in?"  
  
No answer.  
  
"Look, Julian, I know you're in there," O'Brien continued. "I saw you go in a couple   
  
seconds ago. Just let me in."  
  
Still no answer.  
  
O'Brien sighed. "Your father was wrong, Julian. He was wrong to say what he did. He   
  
overreacted, and he took it out on you. It wasn't your fault."  
  
Nothing.  
  
O'Brien turned and looked around the Infirmary helplessly. As if on cue, Sisko entered   
  
and walked up to them. The concern was evident in his eyes.  
  
"He in there?" he asked, nodding at the door.  
  
O'Brien nodded. "Yes, sir, but he's not answering."  
  
"Maybe I should give it a try," Sisko suggested. He signaled the chime, then knocked.   
  
"Doctor Bashir? Julian? Open your door."  
  
Silence.  
  
Hawk cleared his throat before Sisko could call out again. "Sir, if I may? Doctor Bashir   
  
is in a very delicate state right now, and he feels he has to compose himself before he can   
  
face anybody."  
  
"So what do we do?" O'Brien asked. "Just leave him in there?"  
  
Hawk shook his head. "Maybe I can try to get him to open up."  
  
"You?" O'Brien echoed, incredulous. "He doesn't even know you."  
  
"It's worth a shot, Chief," Sisko pointed out. He looked at Hawk. "Go ahead."  
  
=/\=  
  
Julian sat at his desk, staring blankly at the wall in front of him. He thought he had heard   
  
O'Brien's voice, then Sisko's, asking him to open the door, but the memory was so faint   
  
that he believed it to be his imagination. The majority of his mind was wrapped around   
  
what had happened in Quark's.  
  
He couldn't believe what had happened. And in front of his friends and colleagues.   
  
Gods, what they must think of him! He had worked so hard to prove himself as a   
  
competent and capable doctor, and now his father had destroyed all that in all of five   
  
seconds. How could he face his patients now? Or his friends?  
  
Unbidden, another memory from his childhood surfaced and played before his eyes like a   
  
holovid.  
  
//Eight-year-old Julian stood from his desk and went to the replicator for a glass of water.   
  
Holding the glass firmly in two hands, he turned and started back for the desk when a   
  
strong hand fell on his shoulder and spun him around.  
  
Bashir's eyes were alit with anger as he tore the glass from Julian's grip. "You stupid   
  
little piece of . . . I just came in from the kitchen. Do you know what I found?"  
  
"N-No sir," Julian answered.  
  
Bashir's hold on his son tightened painfully as he forced the boy into the next room. He   
  
led Julian over to the counter, where a dishtowel lay, clearly out of place in the   
  
immaculate room.  
  
"What do you see?" Bashir demanded, shaking Julian.  
  
"A t-t-towel," Julian replied.  
  
"A towel that is clean?" Bashir prodded.  
  
Suddenly, Julian knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that he was in big trouble. "I-I f-  
  
forgot."  
  
"You forgot," Bashir repeated, calm. This, more than the yelling, frightened Julian.   
  
"How many times do I have to tell you? WHEN YOU USE A TOWEL, YOU DISPOSE   
  
OF IT AND GET A NEW ONE! How hard is that to understand? Do you have a brain?"  
  
"Y-Yes," Julian whimpered, two tears escaping from his eyes.  
  
"Then use it, dammit!" Bashir shoved the child up against the counter. "Do what you're   
  
told the first time, and this wouldn't have happened! I swear to God, Julian, you can't   
  
seem to do anything right!"  
  
Julian, trembling and crying silently, picked up the towel and went to do as he was told.  
  
The doctor watched his younger self carry out the task from across the room, tears   
  
staining his cheeks. He was so absorbed in the memory that the unfamiliar voice startled   
  
him.  
  
"I'm so sorry."  
  
Julian jumped and turned to find a tall man standing behind him, watching him with   
  
sorrow on his face. He looked familiar to the doctor, but Julian just couldn't place him.   
  
"Who are you?"  
  
The man raised his hands in a calming gesture. "Relax, Doctor. I'm Commander Hawk,   
  
from the Persephone. I don't mean to intrude on what are obviously very private   
  
thoughts, but your friends are worried about you."  
  
"My friends?" Julian said, confused.   
  
"The Chief and Commander Sisko," Hawk supplied. "You didn't answer them when they   
  
called for you. We're standing outside your office door right now."  
  
Julian was dimly aware that his memory was fading, leaving the two Starfleet officers   
  
standing in a black void. "I . . . I don't think I can see them right now."  
  
Hawk nodded. "I understand. I hope you don't mind my asking; I would never want to   
  
intrude, but . . . was it always like that?"  
  
Julian picked at an invisible thread on the front of his tunic. "Usually. My father was   
  
never really impressed with me. It was all I could do just to survive."  
  
"Did he ever . . . you know, strike you?" Hawk coaxed gently.  
  
At this, Julian gave a humorless laugh. "Only until I was too big and could fight back.   
  
After that, he just settled for the psychological warfare."  
  
Hawk silently observed the young man before him, marveling that he had come so far   
  
despite his upbringing. "Have you tried talking to a psychologist about this?"  
  
"I tried at the Academy," Julian told him. "It worked pretty well, but it got back to my   
  
father, and, well . . . there was hell to pay. Since then, I've just pushed it out of my mind.   
  
I told everyone I wanted this post because I wanted to practice real frontier medicine, but   
  
a part of me also wanted to put as much distance as possible between me and him. It's   
  
worked so well so far."  
  
"Hiding from it will not make it go away," Hawk told him. "As a doctor, you know that.   
  
Talk to your friends about this. They're a good group, and they genuinely want to help   
  
you. With time, I think you'll find that what you're feeling now will go away."  
  
Julian studied Hawk's face intently. "I'll . . . I'll consider it. Thank you."  
  
Hawk smiled. "I'll leave you to your friends, then. You're in capable hands, Doctor. I   
  
will see you later. Maybe you could use some competition in that darts game."  
  
Julian laughed a genuine laugh this time. "I look forward to it."  
  
Gradually, Hawk's image faded into the darkness, and Julian found himself once again   
  
back in his office. Shaking his head as if to clear it, he stood and went to open the door.  
  
O'Brien and Sisko were waiting expectantly for him. "Julian, are you okay?" O'Brien   
  
demanded.  
  
Julian took a deep breath, then smiled. "You know, I think I am." 


	6. Epilogue

Epilogue  
  
Julian Bashir fidgeted impatiently at the airlock as the senior staff bid farewells to the   
  
senior staff of the Persephone. Beside him, Dax nudged him and gave him an   
  
encouraging smile, which he returned.   
  
After careful consideration, Julian had decided to relate a few memories to Dax. The   
  
Trill had been shocked at the revelation, but had given strong support to her friend, for   
  
which Julian was very grateful. It would take some time before he felt comfortable   
  
talking about everything he could remember, but it was a start.  
  
Hawk held out his hand to Julian, who shook it heartily. The two men had become fast   
  
friends in the remaining two days the Persephone had been docked, and Julian was sad to   
  
see him go.  
  
"Thank you for everything, Nick," Julian said.  
  
Hawk slapped him on the arm. "My pleasure, Julian. I'm looking for a rematch the next   
  
time we're docked."  
  
"You're on," Julian grinned.  
  
Richard Bashir stepped forward and shook the commander's hand. "I'm sorry we didn't   
  
see eye to eye on that matter we discussed, Commander. Perhaps someday."  
  
Sisko's face was devoid of any expression. "Perhaps," he echoed absently.  
  
As Bashir made his way down the line, Julian began to feel tension knotting in his   
  
stomach. Despite the fact that he was coming to terms with his father's treatment, he still   
  
felt nervous around the man. Part of Julian knew it was because he never knew what to   
  
expect from his father, and that was one thing that was holding true, especially now.  
  
Bashir shook hands with Dax, then stepped back. His eyes passed over Julian as if the   
  
young man wasn't even standing there, then he turned and walked through the airlock   
  
without another word. The rest of the crew followed, leaving the DS9 senior staff   
  
standing, stunned, in their wake.  
  
"What the . . . did he just . . ." Kira spluttered.  
  
"He acted like . . . like you weren't even there!" O'Brien exclaimed.  
  
Julian shrugged. A part of him felt relief, another part sadness. "He acted like he always   
  
does."  
  
"But that's wrong!" Dax protested.  
  
"Doesn't matter," Julian told her. "To him, it was the right thing to do."  
  
With that, he turned on his heel and left the docking ring, oblivious to the shocked eyes   
  
that followed him.  
  
The End 


End file.
